and i don't go to sleep to dream
by I Hear Voices In My Head
Summary: The journal that matt once gave him for his birthday, finally put to use after his brother's suicide. Sequel to the places that you have come to fear the most.
1. Prologue: A Fall From Grace

and i don't go to sleep to dream

****

a fall from grace

It was Eric on the phone. I knew it. I picked up the receiver, my hands shaking, thinking, please, let it be someone else, please, God in Heaven, just don't let it be Eric. I put it to my ear. "Jeff." His voice is cold, so hard. My heart sinks. It's him. I glance at the clock. I should have been there half an hour ago. How screwed I am. How utterly screwed. 

"Eric…" I stammered. How pathetic I feel. How much like the younger idiot Hardy I must sound to him. Is he smiling at my misery? Or is he frowning, angry, does he truly despise me? "I was just leaving." What a lame attempt of escaping punishment. I hate this. "I was walking out the door. Really!" Oh, now _that _sounds convincing, that desperateness in my voice. 

"I need you here, now," he says, without feeling. God, this is it. I know it. I close my eyes and gently put the phone down, I know he has nothing more to say to me. I'm really going to get fired this time. Really. I know it. My lower lip is trembling, I bite it fiercely and it starts to bleed, but it doesn't stop trembling. I'm scared. I don't want this to happen! Why is it! I pull my hair, I put my hands over my face, dig my nails into my cheeks, but that nervousness, it won't go away! 

And I look like shit. My faded blue hair is clumpy, frizzy, unkempt, unwashed, dirty, oily, I could go on for hours about how crappy my hair looks alone! My eyes are all bloodshot, I look so tired, I look something preternatural, I don't look human, my God, how dead I look. My skin is so white. And these clothes I'm wearing, I've been wearing them for the past three days. Change. Yes, that's the first thing I'll do. Quickly, instinctively, I pull out my canvas bag and tear out all of its contents, spread them over the bed. Everything is so flashy, so uncomfortable looking, they hurt my eyes, holy crap, what was I thinking when I bought this? Leopard and zebra print everywhere, neon colors, the strangest socks you'd ever seen, like Beetlejuice, do I have anything that looks normal, that wouldn't enhance my abnormal appearance?

Ah, this! Some black. Yes, black is fine, it makes me blend in, it makes the whiteness of my skin look natural. A black plain shirt, a small logo on the back, I'll wear a sweater to cover it. And black pants, my old favorite pants, I slipped them on, threw the shirt over my head, put the sweater on and zipped it up to my neck. I looked back at the mirror. Better. Much better. Fix my hair a bit, pull it back, a ponytail, perfect. And my eyes, what about them? They're so red. I washed my face, careful not to get soap in them to make them more irritated, ran cool water under my lids. Again, much better. I was ready. 

I didn't bother packing my wrestling attire. I already missed my match. What was the point? I just grabbed my car keys, my wallet, and my good luck guitar pick and I was done. 

The car was cluttered and messy. How funny. It used to be so neat to the point that some people would say to me after I took them for a ride, "Your car, how nice it is, so clean, I wish my car was like yours." Not any more you wouldn't. Not when it's like this. Piece of junk, full of uneaten food, coffee that will never be drunk, little tiny figurines of Buddha everywhere you look, papers scattered on the floor, black nail polish stains on the dashboard, and much much more that would take more hours of your day to tell you all about. The radio is still good though. I turned it on.

Immediately some song that I had never head before came on. Quite nice it was, actually. Pretty guitar riffs. As I drove towards my doom, it soothed me just the tiniest bit, which matters to me a lot. When the song was over, I sighed, I wish it wasn't done yet. I wish it could last forever. Just the pretty guitar riffs and the barely scratching by's and the fear the most's and the perfect posture's. Just bits of lyrics I caught. 

It was a beautiful night, really. The stars were bright against the black sky, a cool breeze came in through my window, caressed my face and my hair lovingly. I opened my mouth, just a little bit, and let the wind fill my senses entirely, wishing, like that breeze, I could just fly, very far from here. Maybe I'd go into oblivion. Maybe I'd go to the ocean and forever be at peace at watching the waves I so dearly love. Of maybe I'd just freeze in time and float for all eternity, happy, blissfully, no worries, no pains, no hate. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, my knuckles turned white. I was almost there. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, suddenly, no, this can't be happening, I can't almost be there!

And then I am there, getting out of my car, my breaths coming in short gasps, turning cold all over, my heart thumping louder than ever. The Skydome. And inside, Eric, about to kick my ass out of the WWE. And me, so afraid, frightened beyond all reason. My knees are stiff as I walk in, there is no will in my body to keep walking, but I do anyway, hard as it was. And very suddenly I'm standing right outside the Raw general manager's office, just staring at the door, at the silver handle, my stomach convulsing again. All I could see is Eric's angry face, that pink note _I know _that is waiting for me. I open the door. 

Four police officers are scattered around the desk. I blinked in confusion. Eric is talking to one, the highest ranking looking one, seemingly frustrated, black eyes flashing. Shock. What had happened? The officers, how grim they looked. Nobody had even noticed I walked in. Several other wrestlers were off to the side, watching Eric and the officers, their eyes wide. I'm about to hyperventilate. Was there anybody I could ask what was happening? What was going on?

Then I saw Lita.

She was standing off to one corner of the room, looking silently at the floor, her flaming red hair shadowing her face and the expression on it. Her shoulders were slumped, her arms limp at her sides. She alone noticed the door opening. She alone noticed who had walked into the room. 

"Jeff!" she gasped, and all the noise around me stopped.

Eric and the police officer stopped snapping at each other. My co-workers; their quiet and voiceless talking ceased, and everyone turned and looked right at me. Blood rushed to my face, grew hot at the unwanted attention. What did their faces show? I saw confusion. I saw stares of bewilderment and shock. Lita had tears in her eyes. And those officers, gazes of sympathy. Eric was a mask of stone. And I was mortified beyond belief. My vision was blurring. 

"What's happening?" I whispered. 


	2. The Journal

****

the journal

august 22nd, 2002

morning 

dear unnamed, 

Such a gloomy day today, especially for august. I tried opening the windows to let some fresh air in, but my room just got deathly cold, and I ended up closing them and the blinds. Now it so dark, and I don't want to turn on the lights. I lit some candles instead and lay on my bed, watched them burn themselves out. The radio is playing some dreary music right now, Radiohead I think. I like this song. Something about fake plastic trees. I like plastic plants. Does that count?

I've had this diary for a long time. Too long, in fact, for never having a chance for writing in it. Well, now is a good chance, I guess. It's almost my birthday. I'm gonna be 25, you know that? Wow. 25 years and I'll be fuckin celebrating by drinking a jack daniels and reading the novel interview with the vampire while listening to Marilyn Manson blasting on my CD player. La de freakin da. I'm so excited, I think I'll piss in my pants now. pants. What a funny word. 

Matt and I were actually going to do something for my birthday. Maybe go on over to six flags magic mountain in cali, or go bar hopping like every birthday of mine since my 21st year. I don't want to do anything anymore. Matty's not feeling well, he has this huge shot gun blast in his head, and anyway, even if he did feel like going out that night he'd be too mad to do anything with me. Forgive the tear drops, they come and go. More often these days, I'm afraid. 

I have nothing to do tonight so I think I'll stay in and watch sleepless in seattle or titanic or my best friend's wedding. Yeah. That sounds good. Then I could light some more candles and get warmer. Where's my fluffy coat? Don't tell me I lost it. Dammit. Just when I needed it too. 

Hey, I need a name for you, journal. Would you mind if I called you mattykins? Coz you know, I used to call matt that all the time, before he went and offed himself, and I could always tell matt everything. 

See you later, matt. 

august 31st

10:30 pm

dear matty, 

I got a couple of presents today. One was this big fluffy tiger stuffed animal, just what I needed for a bed companion. I think shane got that for me. And amy got me the best pajamas and slippers I could want, fleece, with little ducky prints on them. Fuzzy slippers. Shannon got me some new guitar pedals for my fender, told me they were on sale and called me a cheapy. Yeah, I know how things go. Daddy got some gifts certificates for me, hot topic, tower records, and borders. I think I'll go buy the vampire lestat tomorrow. I have nothing else to do. 

We did have cake. I'm still full. Ice cream cheese cake, double layered, with cool whip slapped all over the top, my favorite. I could eat that for the rest of my life and die at the age of forty five by a hearty attack and I'd still be happy. 

Hey hey hey guess what! I also forgot to mention the present adam gave to me. It was a nice big hug. God that was the best present. He was just looking at me and I said what and he hugged me really tightly and started to cry. Then I started to cry too and we had a crying symphony and then adam stopped and smiled and said you know what I have never see you cry before. And I just told him it happens sometimes. You know me and adam have never been really close but we had one thing in common and that was you. We both loved you, very much, and I guess that now that you're gone we've bonded a little but more. We'll see what happens in the next few weeks. 

I'm tired. Good night. 

September 5th 

9:15 pm

dear matty, 

today was a horrible day. God, on days like these I just wish the entire world could just burn. 

Adam kissed me. Goddamit, why did this have to happen to me? I wasn't leading him onto anything. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!!!!!! This was the day of your memorial service too, and shit, I think amy saw, holy crap, what if everyone finds out? Well it's not my fault I didn't kiss him he kissed me. I was just...talking to him and all of a sudden he leans over and kisses me on the cheek. Okay, that's not the bad, I don't care about that, but when I don't say anything he kisses me on the mouth! Now I feel totally exposed and dirty and bad because it was your memorial service matty and your ex boyfriend kisses me your loving little brother. And all I did was let him and then stare at him walking away when he was done with me. now up in heaven you probably just hate me even more. 

crap. What if dad finds out? Well isn't this just the fuckin shit?!


End file.
